


Trust (And a Helluva Lot of Anger)

by daisy_is_always_cold



Series: Marvel Oneshots [9]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:09:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26825662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisy_is_always_cold/pseuds/daisy_is_always_cold
Summary: You and Peter spend far too much time arguing over trust.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Reader, Peter Parker/Reader, Sam Wilson (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Marvel Oneshots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956661
Kudos: 32





	Trust (And a Helluva Lot of Anger)

“Peter Parker!” You shouted angrily from the other side of the hallway. “Get your ass over here!” 

Someone snickered. Peter disappeared around the corner. 

“I’m going to kill him,” you muttered to yourself. 

“Stark wouldn’t be to happy with that,” your father, Sam, laughed from behind you. “I’d be.” 

“Thanks, Dad,” You spoke dryly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a murder to commit.” 

You raced down the hallway, and around the corner. The arachnid was nowhere in sight. 

“Friday, where the hell is he?”

“Peter is currently in his bedroom, Miss.” 

You stomped towards his door, which wasn’t even completely closed. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” You practically shouted at the teen. 

“I’m sorry, I thought I was helping!” Peter rushed to defend himself. 

“Asshole!” You grabbed a pillow and started smacking him with it.

“I knew he liked you, I thought I was doing the right thing, I swear!” 

“I told you that in confidence!” You continued to hit him. When you finally felt satisfied, your dropped the pillow, but your angry expression stayed. 

“I don’t get what the problem is? He likes you, you like him, what’s the problem?” 

“Because I don’t like him, Peter,” you sighed. “And now I gotta deal with this shit because you can’t keep your damn mouth shut.” You picked the pillow up again and started smacking him. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” he cried, but you ignored him. You only stopped when your phone buzzed. 

“Ugh,” you groaned, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a problem to deal with now.” You threw the pillow at him and stormed off. 

>>>>>>>

You decided that the best revenge was silence. You spent the next week completely ignoring your best friend. And it was nearly impossible. As soon as he caught on to what you were doing, he did his best to make it too hard. To be fair, it wasn’t that difficult for him. You lived with him, you had all the same friends, and you shared at least half of the same schedule. All he had to do was be there. Eventually you would speak. 

But he wasn’t the only one who’s stubborn nature took over. And Peter had to admit that, when you really tried, you were just like your father. No matter how hard it was, you never broke. And it seemed that, the harder he tried, the more you shut down. His first attempts centered around pissing you off. He knew that if he said something that angered you enough, you’d snap and respond. But you didn’t. His second attempt was apologies, which you promptly ignored. 

To be fair, you weren’t even mad at him anymore, but now, you had to beat him. He’d challenged you, and you intended to win.   
By Friday, he had just about given up. He stopped trying to speak to you, hoping that you would break this silence when you’d decided that he’d been punished enough. 

You didn’t learn that he was pulled out of class early for a mission until you arrived at the tower. You had a bad feeling about this one. 

You waited anxiously for his return, as you always did. But he wasn’t home for dinner, or by the time you went to bed. When you awoke from a night of restless sleep, the team still wasn’t back. 

Of course, you knew that a long mission definitely didn’t mean a bad one, but it left you with more time to worry. And you were the resident team worrier. You weren’t trained like your best friend or your father, so all you could do is sit and worry when someone you cared about was in the field. 

When Tony got a call with news, you were sitting anxiously beside him, waiting for details on two of the most important people in your life. When his face fell, you sat up a little straighter in your chair, waiting. 

“What happened?” you asked as soon as he hung up the phone. 

“We need a stretcher,” he spoke to Bruce, not you. “We’ve got one injured.” 

“Who?” you asked, but Tony was already gone from next to you. He and Bruce were preparing for whoever it was. 

“Who?” you spoke louder this time. 

“It’s Peter,” Tony returned quickly, not taking his eyes off. 

“Oh no,” you whispered. 

The next hour was torture. You had no idea how badly injured he was, but from what you gathered by watching Tony, it wasn’t good. When the jet landed, you rushed out to meet them, but before you could catch a glimpse of him, Sam had pulled you away.

“No, I have to-” You spoke desperately. 

“I don’t want you to see him like that.” Sam returned, holding you back. 

And that was when you knew that this was a thousand times worse than anything you’d seen before. 

When Sam finally got you to calm down just enough, he walked you to your room, making sure that you wouldn’t head off to the med bay. You sat waiting on your bed for what felt like years before there was a bit of news. 

“He’s out of surgery,” Natasha let you know as she passed by your room. As soon as she was gone, you rushed out of bed and down to see him. He wasn’t awake. 

“You’re so stupid,” you whispered to him, hoping no one else could hear you. “What happened to being careful?” 

He’d made you a promise a long time ago, back when you first became friends. Every time he left for a mission, he always swore that he’d be careful. If he couldn’t see you before he left, he’d call you, or leave a note, or send you a text. You hadn’t gotten anything this time. 

You put your hand over his on the bed. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was so soft that you could barely hear it yourself. “I’ve spent the last week ignoring you.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if this was your fault. You were angry with him and he hadn’t stopped to promise to be careful.

You didn’t leave his side until your father forced you to go to school the next day, and as soon as the bell rang, you were out of the school before anyone could even realize it. 

He still wasn’t awake when you got home. 

You dragged an end table to your seat next to his bed and began your homework, narrating your thoughts as you went. Bruce had told you that it was likely he could still hear you in his coma. And you knew Peter would enjoy your commentary if he really could hear you. 

It went like this for days. You spent every waking moment that you could in Peter’s hospital room, just waiting for the moment he woke up. Your father practically had to drag you out of his hospital room to eat and sleep. 

When you go the text from Natasha that he was awake, you were at lunch. You counted down the minutes until you could get home, and you seriously considered ditching school. But you’d already upset your father enough in the past few days. 

“Peter!” you cried when you finally reached the room, rushing to his side. 

“Hey, (Y/N).” His voice was raspy. 

You did your best to hug him, trying to be careful of his injuries.

“How are you doing?” You asked when you sat down in the seat you’d been glued to every moment that you could. Your hand found his on the edge of his bed.

“M’fine,” his smiled softly. “How are you?” 

“That is none of your concern right now,” you said, “all you need to focus on is getting better.” 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

You sighed. Of course this is what he chose to focus on. He watched you as you looked down at the floor.

“You really scared me, Peter,” you whispered finally. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” His face turned pink. “And I broke my promise.” 

“Yeah, but that’s sort of my fault. I’ve been ignoring you for a week.” 

“Why were you so mad at me about that?” he spoke after a few seconds.

“I don’t...want to talk about it right now.” 

“C’mon, talk to me. You tell me everything.”

“That’s how we got into this mess in the first place,” you returned. 

“I promise that, from this moment on, I will never break your trust again.” He put out his pinky. “Pinky promise?” 

“That’s a pretty big promise,” you laughed, but you held out your pinky anyway. 

“And it’s one that I intend to keep.”

There was silence for a few minutes. 

“So tell me about everything that’s happened over the past few days,” Peter spoke. 

You laughed and began to update Peter on the drama at school, on the team, everything that he’d missed. The two of you talked for hours before your eyes started to fall. 

“You should go up to your room,” Peter insisted, “it’s getting late.” 

“I’m fine, I can stay,” you returned. 

“(Y/N), you have to sleep.” 

“Mmmm, but I don’t want to,” you groaned sleepily, pulling your knees up to your chest on the chair.   
“I’ll call your dad.” 

“You wouldn’t dare.” Your eyes narrowed. 

“I would dare.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

He grabbed his phone from the table next to the bed. 

“Hmm, where is it? Ah, yes! Sam Wilson. Okay…’Hey Sam, your daughter’s being stubborn and-” 

You pulled the phone out of his hand before he could finish writing the text.

“What happened to not betraying my trust, huh?” 

“This has nothing to do with your trust, stupid.” 

“Oh yeah, then what does it have to do with, stupid?” You echoed his words.

“Your well-being!”

“Since when are you concerned about my well-being, Mr. I’m-So-Bad-At-Taking-Care-Of-Myself-That-I-Ended-Up-In-A-Coma-For-A-Week?”

“Hey, just because I’m bad at taking care of myself doesn’t mean that I’m bad at taking care of other people.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst,” you groaned, closing your eyes for a moment. They were beginning to ache with how late it was.

“Go. To. Bed.” He spoke again, more serious this time. 

“Okay, goodnight,” you joked and closed your eyes, dropping your head as if you were asleep. Peter reached over to hit your leg softly.

“You know that’s not what I meant!” 

You continued to pretend. 

“(Y/N),” he groaned. You let your head roll to the side, your eyes still closed. You could hear him sigh. 

“You know I’m still going to be here in the morning, right? I’ll be here and I’ll be perfectly okay,” he tried. You had to admit that he knew you better than you gave him credit for. He’d pinpointed your fear. But you still didn’t move. 

“(Y/N),” he whined. 

You let your head fall a little further and then bolted upright, grinning as you opened your eyes. 

“I hate you.” 

You stuck your tongue out at him. 

“Go to bed.”

“Why can’t I just stay here for the night?” you complained.

“Ah yes, it’s an amazing idea to stay here and sleep in a crappy armchair when you have a perfectly good bed upstairs.” 

“But the upstairs is so far awayyyyyyyyy.” 

“It’s really not that far, (Y/N), you’re just lazy.”

You stuck out your tongue again. 

“I’m serious, you should go to bed. I will call Sam.” 

“How are you gonna do that without this?” You held up his phone and smirked. 

“Friday, call Sam,” Peter spoke, not breaking eye contact, daring you to do something.

“Don’t you dare,” you warned, but it was already too late. Friday had connected the room with wherever it was that Sam was. You crossed your arms and glared at Peter as he told on you. When Sam appeared in the doorway, you gave Peter another look and flipped him off as your father dragged you out of the room. 

You couldn’t sleep that night. Your mind was too preoccupied with worrying about Peter, thinking about Peter, and more worrying about Peter. 

It only took two more days for Peter to be released from the hospital area of the tower. His abilities helped him heal quickly, but it didn’t change the fact that you were still worried. 

At least, that’s what you convinced yourself you were doing. Peter was always in your thoughts, and you’d been pretty successful at telling yourself that it was just because you worried about him. He was your best friend and a horribly reckless superhero. But you were starting to question if that was why you were always thinking about him. 

When he was released, the first place he visited was your room. Your father had banned you from Peter’s hospital room after the second night you tried to convince them to let you sleep there. 

“Come in,” you called when there was a knock on your door. 

“Hey.” 

“Peter!” you cried, pulling your laptop off of your lap and sitting up straight on your bed. “When were you released?”

“Just now,” he laughed, sitting down on the edge of your bed.

Your phone began to buzz.

“Do you need to get that?”

“No,” you sighed. “You remember that trust-breaking? I’m still dealing with the idiot who can’t seem to take no for an answer.” 

“You want me to punch him?”

“No. Though if he keeps this up, I might just do it myself.” 

He stared away for a moment. 

“There’s something that’s still bothering me,” he spoke.   
“What?”

“Why did you lie?”

“About…?”

“Liking him.”

“Because…”

“Because why?”

“Because.” 

“You’re not answering my question.” 

“That’s right, I’m not.”

“Why are you so stubborn?” 

“Have you met my father?”

Peter groaned and fell back on your bed. 

“Just talk to me, (Y/N). You and I don’t have secrets.” 

“Hmmmm, but this is one I want to keep.” You laid down next to him, focusing your eyes on the ceiling. 

“Fine,” Peter sighed. “If you really don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.” 

You could tell that he was hurt, but you didn’t want to tell him the truth: the reason you’d lied was because you were pretty sure that you had a crush on him. 

“You wanna watch a movie?” You rolled over to face him, trying to change the subject. 

“Sure,” he spoke, but you could tell that he was upset that you didn’t want to talk to him. 

You watched him out of the corner of your eye the entire movie. His eyes were glued to the screen the whole time, his face hurt.

Things stayed strained over the next few days. You tried your hardest, but Peter hadn’t forgiven you for keeping a secret. And it was honestly starting to piss you off. 

You sat at lunch with MJ, Ned, and Peter. MJ and Ned were arguing over the answers to a math problem and you were watching Peter, who was eating a sandwich glumly. You’d given up trying to engage him in conversation at the beginning of the period. 

“What do you think, (Y/N)?” Ned turned to you. 

“I think,” you picked up a carrot, “that I suck at math and Peter would be a much better choice for this conversation.” 

“So now you trust me enough for a conversation,” Peter spoke grumpily. 

You dropped your hand onto the table with a little more force than intended.

“Oh my God, Peter, would you stop,” you exhaled angrily. You didn’t miss the look of surprise on Ned and MJ’s face. 

“I’ll stop when you stop keeping secrets.” 

“Secret. One little secret. Why the hell is this such a big deal?”

“Because you tell me everything,” he sighed. “And if you won’t tell me this, how am I supposed to know that you aren’t keeping other things.” 

“You are so dramatic.” You caught his eye. “I’m allowed to keep things to myself, Peter. That isn’t too much to ask.” 

“But-” 

“No.” You got up from the table. “I’m not doing this with you right now. MJ, I’ll see you in class.” 

As soon as you were in the hallway, you sped up, trying to get as far away as you could from the lunchroom. You dropped your things off in your locker and headed to your next class exceptionally early. It was fine, you had a book in your backpack to read.   
“What was that about?” MJ asked as she sat down next to you, just a few moments before the bell. 

“What?” You looked up from your book. 

“You and Peter...at lunch?” 

“He’s being an ass.” 

“Yeah, but he always is. What’s so different about this time?” 

“He is not.” You swatted her arm. “But he is right now,” you relented a little. 

“You two and your trust,” she sighed. “Last week it him breaking your trust, now it’s the other way around.” 

“That is not what happened,” you frowned. 

“Oh yeah? Then what did?” 

“The asshole can’t accept that I won’t tell him who my crush is.” 

“Wait, wait, wait, I’m sorry, that’s what this is about?” 

“Yep,” you sighed. “And he just won’t let it go.”

“So why don’t you just tell him?” 

“Because…” 

“Because why?”

You looked down at the ground, hoping that your embarrassment didn’t show. 

“It’s because you like him, isn’t it?” she asked, knowingly. 

You didn’t respond, still looking at the ground. 

“It is!” She laughed. “So just tell him! We all know that he likes you back!” 

“Uh...no, we don’t.”

“Yes, we do. It’s so obvious!” 

“Even if he does—which I’m not convinced he does—I’m mad at him now anyway. And he’s mad at me.” 

“Oh my God,” she groaned. “I cannot handle this woe-is-me crap. Just tell him. Or I’ll do it for you.” 

You didn’t get a chance to respond before the bell rang. And when class ended, you rushed out quickly, knowing that Peter had that class next. You did not want to run into him. 

You decided to walk back to the tower after school. Usually, Happy would pick you and Peter up from school, but you had no desire to endure a car ride with him right now. 

You walked quickly through the streets, hoping to get home before your father could worry that you were gone. When you reached the tower, you gave him a quick hello before heading to your room to do homework. 

The two of you continued your anger through dinner, and the others began to notice. This was different than your fight the week before. Now, it was clear that the both of you were actually angry. Your father gave you a questioning look when he caught you glaring daggers at the teen who was pretending you weren’t even there. 

“What the hell happened with you two?” He cornered you after dinner was over. 

“Nothing. We just had a fight,” you said, trying to get around your father. 

“Are you gonna talk to him about it?”   
“I didn’t plan on it.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because he’s being an asshole.” 

“Isn’t he always?” 

“That’s what MJ said,” you sighed. 

“Y’know, I think I like this MJ.”

“You would.” 

“Talk to him,” Your father spoke, a new seriousness to his tone. “I may not like the boy, but you two are good friends. And he’s good for you.” 

“Whatever,” you groaned. 

You didn’t take your father’s advice. In fact, you didn’t even see Peter until the next day at school. The two of you usually spent your free period doing homework in the library, so of course, you spent yours outside your locker, hoping not to see him. 

When you saw MJ practically dragging him down the hallway, you rolled your eyes and resigned yourself to your fate. 

“Neither of you are leaving until you talk to each other,” she spoke sternly. 

“It’s too bad that (Y/N) doesn’t want to talk to me,” Peter responded snarkily. 

“And it’s too bad that Peter’s a jerk,” you returned, glaring at him. 

“Enough,” MJ spoke sharply. “You two are acting like children. And you were last week too! I cannot handle this anymore. Fix it.” She dropped Peter’s arm and turned to walk away. You dropped your head back against the locker and closed your eyes. Peter’s eyes   
didn’t move from their glare, and you swore he was burning a hole in your skull. 

“What?” You interrupted the silence. 

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“Why are so mad that I don’t tell you every single detail of my life?” Your voice got louder and you stood up to face him.

“Because it’s such a stupid thing! If you don’t trust me with something this small, how am I supposed to know that you trust me at all?” His voice got louder too. 

“Because it’s you!” You finally broke. 

“What?” 

“Because it’s you, Peter.” You spoke softly. “I didn’t want to tell you because it’s you that I like. That’s why I lied, that’s why I-”

You were cut off as his lips met yours. 

“I- What was-” You asked when the two of you finally broke apart. 

“I like you too,” he smiled. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” he laughed. 

“Hey, d’you wanna ditch?” 

“What?” 

“Do you wanna ditch class? We could go do something that isn’t sitting in this stuffy building for the rest of the day.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever ditched class before.” 

“That’s cause you’re too afraid of getting in trouble. C’mon, it’ll be fun.” 

“Mmkay, let’s do it.” He smiled, grabbing your hand. 

You brought Peter to your favorite park and spent the afternoon reveling in his presence. You’d missed him over the past few weeks. And you hadn’t realized how far you two had drifted apart. You definitely hadn’t realizing you’d been distancing yourself from him since you’d realized your feelings for him. But you did now. 

The two of you lost track of time and, when you finally headed back to the tower, it was hours past when you would’ve gotten home after school. 

“We’re gonna be in so much trouble,” Peter murmured as you opened the front entrance. “Your father is going to murder me.” 

“Probably,” you said as you headed to the elevator, your hand still in his. 

“You’re not doing anything to make me feel better.” 

“I didn’t know I was supposed to.” 

He sighed and pressed the button in the elevator. 

“At least I got to live this long.” 

“Oh, stop it.” You smacked his arm. “You’re being dramatic. And besides, he won’t kill you. He knows it would upset me too much.”   
“And just how much would it upset you?” He asked, pulling you closer. 

“Very much,” you smiled. “Now, if you don’t want him to really kill you, you better put some space between the two of us. I don’t think he could handle this.” 

You stepped back just in time for the elevator doors to open.

“Where the hell have you two been?” Sam spoke angrily as soon as you stepped out of the elevator. 

“Hey Dad, how are you? How was your day? Mine was good, thanks for asking?” You quipped. 

“We get a call from the school that both of you didn’t show up to your afternoon classes, you don’t answer your phones, and you’re back hours past when you’re supposed to be! Where the hell were you?”

“The park.” You answered honestly. “It was much better than school.” 

“You have no idea how worried I was! You have to answer your phone!” 

“We’re sorry,” Peter said. “We lost track of time.” 

“You two are in a lot of trouble.” Tony spoke up. 

“Yeah,” Sam said. “(Y/N), you’re grounded.” 

“Mmkay, whatever you say,” you returned. Both of you knew that Sam didn’t really have that kind of authority over you. Since you’d moved into the tower a couple of years ago, Sam had been more of your “fun” parental figure. If you listened to him, it was mostly because you thought it was something you should listen to. And that was not something you planned to listen to. 

“And no suit for a week for you,” Tony spoke to Peter. “That’s practically the same as grounding you.” 

“No! That’s not fair!” Peter groaned. 

“Maybe you should’ve considered the consequences before you ditched school and stopped answering the phone.”

“C’mon, we’ve got homework to do,” you said, hoping to pull Peter away before things escalated. 

“This sucks,” he complained as soon as you’d escaped the glare of your father and Tony and reached Peter’s room. “I can’t believe I lost my suit for a week.” 

“Relax, it’ll be just fine. And besides,” you flopped down on his bed. “that means that you’ll get to spend the next week with me. If we’re lucky, they’ll all get called on a mission and we can build a blanket fort in the living room like we did last spring.” 

“Is that a promise?” He fell down next to you. 

“Sure. I promise that we’ll build a blanket fort. But first, you have to help me with math homework. I’m hopeless at it.” 

Peter laughed softly. “You suck at math.” 

“Hey!” You smacked him softly. 

“What? You say it all the time, we both know it’s true!” 

“Well, you suck at anything that involves writing.” 

“Hey!” It was his turn to smack you. “But it’s true,” he conceded. 

“So are we gonna do this math homework or what?” 

“I pick ‘or what’.”

“Nuh uh, Parker, you said you’d help me with this.” 

“No, I told you to promise me we could build a blanket fort.” 

“And I told you my condition.” 

“Ugh, fine.” He groaned and sat upright. “Just so I know, how hopeless is this situation I’m about to get into?” He pulled you up with him. 

“Totally,” You laughed and kissed him. “Utterly and completely hopeless.”


End file.
